


Strays

by Mashugina



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 11:23:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/861442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mashugina/pseuds/Mashugina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Basks-In-The-Sun travels to Windhelm to adopt an orphaned Argonian, she ends up with a few more children than she was expecting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Basks-In-The-Sun was happy. She had a manor in Falkreath so large that she had no idea what to do with half of the rooms, she had gold, she had respect, she had a husband. A wonderful husband who worked tirelessly in Pinewatch, among humans who most likely rather see him dead, to provide them with gold. A husband who loved her unconditionally. A husband who sat behind her, quietly stitching up the wound on her back as the fire warmed her cold body. 

"You should consider wearing a helmet while battling dragons, love." He murmured as his careful hands healed her wounds.

"When the humans invent a helmet that will fit a woman with horns, perhaps I shall." She responded absently. So far she'd been making do with Stoneflesh spells and an enchanted hood, but she knew it wouldn't last forever. "You really should let Rayya do this." Their houscarl and steward was as adept at fixing injuries as she was at inflicting them.

"I wished to talk with you." His voice was soft in the flickering light cast by the flames. 

"About what?" They really should get some torches installed, she mused absently.

"Children." Basks-In-The-Sun stiffened and flinched from his touch.

"You already know of my failings in that area." She said coldly.

"They are not failings, love."

"Then why-"

"It has been a hard winter in Windhelm and many young Argonians are now parentless. Shavee has written to tell me of one, a lad named Asum, six years of age, who could greatly benefit from our parentage." He finished his stitching and began to apply a poultice to the wound. "There's a Khajiit caravan passing through Pinewatch next week. You could join them for their journey as protection, they would be overjoyed to have the Dragonborn as a patron, and pick up supplies for my shop and furnishings for the house as you travel and return here with-"

"-a son." Basks-In-The-Sun's heart was pounding in her chest.

"Yes." He paused for a moment, hesitation clear in his actions and words. "Do you want this?"

"Yes." Had she been able, she would have smiled. "In fact, I may return with more than one orphan in need of shelter." And she turned around to embrace him, never knowing how much those words would haunt her for the rest of her life.

\---

Something was off about this caravan. It was far larger than what she was used to, with sixteen members and six wagons. None of the members were related. There was none of the usual trust and camaraderie she was used to seeing among the Khajiit. They showed her respect and they left her out of their petty squabbles but by the time they reached Whitereach Basks-In-The-Sun was unnerved enough to consider simply going to Windhelm alone. She dismissed that idea out of hand. Though Harkon had been slain and the Dawnguard restored there were still enough vampires out there to make travel difficult for her, not to mention what should happen were she burdened with a child. And though dragons had been giving her a wide berth since she'd killed Alduin there were still some foolish enough to attack her.

"You stupid little bitch!" Basks-In-The-Sun jumped and drew her sword halfway from its sheath before she realized that the comment was not in fact directed at her, but rather at the small black Khajiit she had seen doing chores around the camp. Currently, it was being beaten by a grey man with a stick. "Do you have any idea- oof!" And then the grey man was doubled over clutching his belly and she was dragging the child away. Nobody came to the rescue of their fallen comrade, just as nobody had come to the rescue of the child. She grew wearier of this caravan every day.

After she had dragged the child (a girl? it was so hard to tell with Khajiit) to her wagon and away from the abusive caravaneer. Basks-In-The-Sun knelt so she was face to face with her and asked "Are you hurt?"

"No." The child looked at her through green, slit-pupilled eyes. "I'm fine."

"Good. I'm Basks-In-The-Sun. You are?"

"S'Jirra." A girl then.

"Do you have any parents?" 

"No. They died." She said it with remarkable lack of emotion, as though she were commenting on the weather.

"I see." Basks-In-The-Sun coughed slightly, the rational part of her mind screaming at her over what she was about to do. "Do you have anybody to take care of you?"

"I take care of myself." She responded angrily and really it would have been more convincing if she hadn't been four feet tall.

"I'm on my way to Windhelm to pick up a child. An orphan. My husband and I want to start a family." Basks-In-The-Sun paused and scratched the back of her head. She'd never been good at articulating her thoughts.

"So?" S'Jirra sounded frightened and hopeful.

"So would you like to be a part of that family?"

The pause was far longer than Basks-In-The-Sun was comfortable with. "Yes." 

\---

There had been people interested in S'Jirra before. A monk, a noble, a warrior and a family. The monk and the adventurer had died, the family had decided she was too much trouble to keep, and the noble had simply forgotten she existed once she was out of sight. The Argonian would too, S'Jirra thought as she paced in the wagon. At least the Argonian didn't expect to her to do any chores. Not yet at least.

"I thought I told you to go to sleep, hatchling." Basks said as she entered the wagon, her hands stained with ink. 

"I'm not sleepy. Or a hatchling." She couldn't bring herself to trust this strange person. Not yet. "What were you doing?"

"You're seven years old and it's midnight. Of course you're sleepy."

"What were you doing?"

"I was writing my husband a letter to inform him that we would need two childrens beds instead of one." Amused yellow eyes met hers. "Now go to bed."

"I don't trust you." It was a stupid thing to say but she said it anyway angry and afraid and unwilling to believe that she was safe.

"I know. I don't expect you to, not yet at least. Go to bed hatchling, we arrive at Riften soon."


	2. Chapter 2

In the six days it took to get to Riften, S'Jirra slowly got to know her new benefactor (she wouldn't call her a parent not yet) and was almost certain that nothing about the woman could surprise her. She was a fraud, who wanted free labour from S'Jirra and hid her intentions with a terribly believable facade of concern. Nonetheless she had been kind to her, allowing her to stay in the roomy wagon and giving her unlimited access to her valuables. 

Several of these valuables were safely tucked away beneath S'Jirra's tunic when she heard a group of people approaching the wagon and nonchalantly strolled over to her bedroll before a large Nord boy with straw coloured hair burst through the flaps of cloth that served as the wagons doors and beamed as soon as he saw her, dropping a small box of belongings on the ground of the wagon with a thump. "Hi I'm Hroar does this caravan belong to Ma, are you my new sister?"

S'Jirra stared at him dumbstruck, long enough for girl with golden hair to shove past the significantly larger Hroar and snap, "Stop bothering her dumbass and get everything ready for Francois."

"Don't swear Runa, do you want to get us sent back?" Said a third boy with dark black hair and unmistakeable Imperial features.

"I'll say whatever I want Samuel, now get our bedrolls set up. Hroar, you help me with the chests and you," She pointed squarely at S'Jirra, "stay out of the way."

In the minutes that followed the three mysterious children managed to nearly set fire to the wagon as they scrambled to prepare their bedrolls and tuck away their meagre possessions while S'Jirra sat with ice in her heart. They're orphans and she's using them, just like she's using me. 

When the flaps opened again to let Basks-In-The-Sun into the wagon, S'Jirra almost attacked her but was stopped by the sickening smell of burnt flesh and the pathetic figure the woman had cradled in her arms. It was a boy with reddish blonde hair, and the left side of his body was covered with burns. There was no leg below the left knee and he whimpered slightly when Basks placed him gently on the bedroll the other children had been setting out for him. "Hroar, Runa, Samuel, please leave and fetch dinner for us while S'Jirra helps me with Francois' bandages." The human children rushed to comply and soon S'Jirra was left alone with the Argonian woman.

"Why are they here? Why is he hurt?" Stupid childish questions but ones that needed to be asked anyway.

"He was hurt in a dragon attack on the city of Riften. I was not fast enough in drawing the dragon away from the city and many suffered as a result." Basks said as she gently wound the bandages around the boys chest. They glowed softly in the magelight and S'Jirra realized that they must have been enchanted for healing, a very expensive item to waste on a boy who could not even serve as cheap labour for you. "During that attack, Francois' guardian, Constance Michel, was killed. There are now twenty orphans in Honorhall, and a decision was made regarding how many orphans the city could support. Francois is a cripple, Samuel is a thief in the making, Runa is too violent, Hroar too innocent and gullible. They were thrown on the streets to die." She gently eased the shirt back onto Francois' unconscious body.

"So you're taking them in." 

"Yes."

"Do you even have enough beds for us?" She asked hotly.

Basks laughed. "No, but my husband is an excellent craftsman. I'm sure he will provide for you. For all of you." And her hands gently cradled Francois' scarred face as Hroar nearly spilled the soup he'd brought back and Runa scolded him and Samuel giggled in the background.


	3. Chapter 3

They were at Windhelm now, and would be staying only a day. A trading hub such as this would have little need of the Khajiit caravans wares, and even with the fall of Ulfric, the people of Windhelm were too hostile towards foreigners for an extended stay to be worthwhile. Explaining to Hroar why he couldn't come into the city though was exceedingly difficult.

"Hatchling, I do not have time to take you all on a tour of the Palace of Kings, even if it is Ysgramor's legacy." Basks-In-The-Sun told him with exasperation in her voice, wondering why his large, pleading eyes made her want to take him there anyway. "Besides, S'Jirra would not be let into the city and we'd have to carry Francois." Francois had woken up three days ago and since then had been very timid and shy towards everybody but S'Jirra, with whom he had bonded immediately. Hroars shoulders sagged. "You will one day be large enough to visit in on your own. I must fetch Asum now, look after the others for me."

"Okay." He sounded dejected but he still ran back to the cart to watch over his makeshift little family. Of the five orphans she had taken in, Hroar had adjusted to the concept of a family the most easily and now referred to her as 'mother' without blinking an eye. It was an odd yet pleasant feeling. She hoped her husband would accept the children as easily as she had.

Shahvee was sitting on the dock with her feet in the water when Basks-In-The-Sun found her. "Shahvee welcomes you." The odd woman declared when she noticed her. "Asum waits for you in the Assemblage. Shall we go see him?"

"Yes, that would be best." She responded, heart thumping in her chest.

Asum was small for his age, with inky black scales and inquisitive red eyes. He did not look at Basks-In-The-Sun when she entered, nor at Shahvee when she called his name. "I'm not leaving her here." He declared sullenly. "Go away."

"Who do you not want to leave?" Basks-In-The-Sun asked softly, trying not to let the disappointment show in her voice. She would not force the boy to leave his home if he did not want to.

"Sofie." He said, looking at her in the eyes for the first time. "You can use magic right, her fingers are all purple and she's got a fever and she throws up anything she tries to eat and-"

Basks-In-The-Sun held up her hand. "Who is Sofie?"

"She's a girl. A Nord, but she isn't mean, not like her parents. She gave me food and stuff when I was hungry but now she isn't well." He looked very worried, though it would have taken an Argonian to see it. "Can you help her?"

"Of course. Will you come with me once she is safe?" He nodded. "Lead me to her then."

The girl was curled up in several raggedy blankets near the gates leading to the docks, a basket of wilting flowers next to her and safely out of sight of the guards. Basks-In-The-Sun knelt to look her over. She was feverish and barely coherent, but her right hand was what concerned Basks-In-The-Sun the most. The smallest finger was almost black, the fourth was purple and the middle finger was purple to the first knuckle. She picked up Sofie and carried her to the nearest apothecary, where the old woman there fussed over the girl and lamented the lack of orphanages in Windhelm and had Basks-In-The-Sun hold her still while she cut off the smallest finger, the fourth finger and the middle finger to the first knuckle.

"She'll live now. Nowhere to go and nobody to help her but she'll live." The woman said as she fed Sofie a potion. The girl was already returning to conciousness and looked frantically at her bandaged hand, then at Asum, then at Basks-In-The-Sun, then at her hand again. "We had to cut those fingers off girl, the cold did them in."

After paying an outrageous price for this treatment, Basks-In-The-Sun left the apothecary and asked Sofie a question. Sofie said yes so they left Windhelm and arrived back at the caravan. While her children fought over the bedrolls and played and generally made a mess of things, Basks-In-The-Sun wrote to Scouts-Many-Marshes to inform him that they now had three daughters and four sons.


End file.
